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i thought i was made for peace

Brett Kavanaugh is nothing To me but that sharp pain behind my right shoulder. The Supreme Court sits 3,000 miles away, Peering with a speculum inside my guts. The news of these days won’t touch me yet, In my safe home, my warm and fed life, my immeasurable luck. But my adrenal glands seep the news These days into my back, my chest, my muscle fibers. I thought I’d been born into a peace time, That my bones were built for making things better. Growing pains are my body educating me that, no, We were built for hard times that will only get worse.

#poetrypractice #fuckkavanaugh #poetry #feministpoetry

the transformation

describe it -- tell me a hundred times. the first time will make no damn sense at all the second will feel dumb as hell the tenth time is rote by twenty-five you're in a rut by thirty, the words sound strange, and forty's tale will have become something different. tell me fifty times before you even think about it that hard sixty times, friend, and you have something seventy-five has become a refined good eighty feels finished; it is not by ninety times you feel yourself as a stranger telling an old legend tell me a hundred times, my dear. again and again and again, and the sickness will become strength. tell me.

#daily poem #poetry practice #amateur hour #first draft

july

Why didn't I take more pictures of you You sweet thing, You bitter, hard thing Sour and sharp on my tonguetip. Me? I knew what was happening -- An urgent ray of warm and golden sun. I basked in it, lounging effortfully Falling heavy into our small space A moment stretched. This ending I predicted And incurred, it still hits me Three, five, seven months later, Where are you? My sweet damned thing, I threw you. And I'm so sorry, but for me? I can still feel, from this dark down-here, that Can't-be-real sunshine we realized.

#poetry practice #new poets on tumblr #break up #grief #ugh #poem

june

WOW THINGS ARE SO BAD How are we supposed to go on? What can be done? I think I know some answers, but no salve can heal the ache. No other option but hope, Backed by action. No safety but connection, Each other, with hard-won trust. My eyes see a dark sky, But I will remind my feet That they still know how to step And to keep balance.

#dailypoem #monthlypoem #good intentions #habits #abolish ice

Why do men run everything?

Why do men run everything? They have the confidence, they assume they can do it. They have the backing of their peers, when they stumble, they’re forgiven. They’re not busy with the childrearing, the network-building, the cleaning, the social maintenance, the home-making, and the people-pleasing. Their fathers ran things, and their brothers do, and they were given a set of tools. They’re supported by their lovers and mothers and sisters. Why do men run everything? It’s only natural. Natural that those we expect to lead, will rise to it. And those we expect to stand down, will play that part also.

#poetry #dailypoem #feminism #leadership #notallmen #feministpoetry #everything is depressing #expectations #new poets corner #amateur hour

April 27

An empty office A mug of microwaved coffee and liqueur Sticky notes, scrappy notes Twitter, endless, mesmerizing Predictable pains, picked at, compulsively A poem about a former lover Dry eyes, hard-won and temporary City train ringing outside The day getting later And me, my brain chewing, Always.

#daily poem #poetrypractice #poetry

Angles, Acute

Why did he choose me? An angle so specifically fitted to hurt him. He told me a few times that the reason I chose him was Because he “didn’t let me get away with my bullshit.” He told me a few times that I was toxic, That I alienated myself from others, That I was driven by fear of inadequacy. We were mirrors to each other, but his Way of reflecting me was a harsh, cold read. I felt like I saw deep into him, and wanted To pull out the most beautiful things, saying, “This is what you are. You are not your fears, You are not your alienation.” It seems I failed miserably. Because when he saw himself In me, saw our shared flaws in sharp relief, He threw them out of his eyes and back at me. Toxic, alienated, inadequate. At least I know myself.

#new poets on tumblr #daily poetry #break up #break up poems #be nice #know yourself #codependency #dailypoem #poetry practice

lucky, lunchtime

Things i noticed: The woman selling me food seemed uncomfortable trying to understand my english As i carried my food to a bench, i passed a one-legged old man slowly pushing his chair A man on the street corner was angry, and yelling at another man I didn’t like my food, and I felt some shame about throwing it away The sun was shining Reading all about the latest Twitter upset made the world feel ugly to me The office where I work is quiet, and there is space to be alone

#twitter #poetry #daily poem

April 24

Not sure if I’m riding these energy waves, Or if they’re riding me, pressing me down, Pushing with ungraspable pressure. Don’t know how other people do it, Another day and yet another, living awake, Using their own hands to move matters.

#poetry practice #amateur hour #poets on tumblr

i swear someday soon i will stop writing these fucking break up poems

What do I do with my beautiful thing? A thing that is dead and gone? I could smash it, let the shards cut me, and say that it never really was beautiful. I'd declare beauty is most often a lie, and in stubbornnes, I wouldn't miss it anymore. I could wrap it up in layered paper, fit snug into a box, and store it away up in the attic. I'd climb up through the dust to look at it, but only once in a very long while. I could hold it tight in my palm, a constant pressure. When daily life called for my two hands, My fumbling struggle would make sure that I never forget my beautiful thing. I have a beautiful thing here, a thing dead and gone. Somehow I'll learn to carry it gently with me, without a tugging weight, and without getting in the way of the beautiful things to come.

#oh my god #break up poem #quedisastre #dailypoem #relationships #break ups #it's just a phase but you still gotta move through it #ya know?#ugh christ #tfw you're sick of yourself #sadgirls

When beautiful things happened

Remember Remember Remember When beautiful things happened? You were there And the sky was high and The grass was tall and Holding hands, Foreheads touching, One long day Of many days. Beautiful, Remember?

#new poets corner #memory #dailypoem #short and sweet

two months

I went to the cemetery without you last night. He and I leaned our bikes against a birch, Touched gravestones, and shared a jar of rye whiskey. It was nice. It was. But still my Legs and lips wanted so badly to recall That night you and I left the cemetery, to kiss In ten different parks around town. Beer kisses and cold dark biking. I didn't plan on missing you this much.

#everydaypoetry #dailypoem #poetrypractice #breakuppoem #girlsonbikes #poetry

break-up poem #63

I laid all my cards on the table, even if it sometimes took some prompting. I laid them out under a bright lamp, Carefully, with intention. There was no winning this game against one who wouldn't accept the rules, who refused to see the cards plainly sitting there, who kept vital and precious truths in his sleeves.

#daily poem #new poets on tumblr #poetry practice #break ups #i swear i'm making progress #in a lot of ways

mid october

I’m cold and tired and the world can’t be trusted because the world is full of men. It’s cold and dark and the boy who loves and holds me will inevitably make me feel cold and alone as his understanding strains to reach my experience. There’s not enough room for all our egos And we all know whose will be the first to go.

#poem

telling

His story will probably be different. Mine might be cruel in its brevity: It was divine, it was beautiful, it was.

#new poets on tumblr #daily poem #short poem

drunk poem

The most anxious baby award That's me, I'm a winner. I don't know where I'm headed toward, Forgetting to eat dinner. Mental health rests on four legs Are you lonely or supported? Roll your dice and move the pegs, Blocks and stumbles, well afforded. Poem practice is one small task Is the rest of days another puzzle? I'd try to answer but it's rarely asked, Seldom/never a forgetful muzzle. Please, my friend, don't leave me here I need time to be alone Everyone is grieving here But me? I'm on my phone

#i literally don't remember writing this #poetry practice

was this a poem or a to do list?

Driver license Teeth out Passport

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poetry practice, every day